Lost! The Alternate Cut
by RileyAlexis
Summary: What happens when John and Sherlock find a teenager on their doorstep? Strange things, my friend. Rated T for mentions of rape and violence and swearing. May progress into more chapters. This is my first fic. Please go easy on me and review!
1. Lost! alternate cut Part I

**So! This is my first fic ever. Go easy on me? Essentially what would happen if John and and Sherlock found a lost teenager! I've tried to keep the characters as close to their personality as possible. That means oblivious Sherlock, sweet John, and Lestrade being... Adorable.**

**Rated T for mentions of rape and violence. Rating will go up in later chapters.**

**Features my OC Vera Davis (An American vacationing in London to see the 2012 Olympics) and John (for now). **

It was early in the summer of 2012 when it happened. I was in London for the Olympics with my parents. We were watching the sparring from high up in the stands.

'My God, Dad! Did you see that guy's roundhouse?'

'I did; I don't think the other guy did, though.' He laughed.

'I don't think his neck is supposed to bend that way..' Mom cringed.

'Oh he's fine. Look! He's getting back up- And he's down again. Now he's back up."

'Vera, it's almost 11. We should get back to the hotel.' Mom tried.

'But they're not done yet!'

'Vera. We're leaving. Now.'

'Fine..'

We made our way down the bleachers and out of the giant building. Mom stopped me outside the door.

'Do you have your phone? Money? You know what to do if you get lost?' My mom interrogated.

'Yes, yes, and yes.' I answered back.

'Okay. Let's go.'

We strode into the city. It was a beautiful city, London was. Lights, tall buildings, double-decker buses; all the stereotypical London sights. Despite the streetlights, I could see the stars clearly. Unconsciously, I slowed down to stare at them. I looked back down to see the mob of strangers around me.

''ey Dad, do you think we could meet any celebrities while we're here?' I ask loftily.'Dad?'

I turned to see why he wasn't responding. To my dismay, I realized I was talking to a complete stranger. I looked around, my breathing beginning to get hysterical. I couldn't see my mom or my dad.

'Mom? Dad?' I called out in a frenzied panic.

I whipped out my phone and moved from the mob to an alley.

'Come on! Just turn on already...' I muttered.

I pressed every button on my phone until it called my mom.

'Mom! Mom? Mom, can you hear me?' I nearly shouted into the phone.

'Vera? Where are you?' Mom shouted back.

'We got separated in the-'

'What?'

'WE GOT SEPARATED IN THE CROWD, MOM.'

**beep beep**

I looked at my phone. The called had been ended from her side. Her phone had died.

'Damn it!' I cursed.

Okay, Vera, just calm down... I cooed to myself. 'You just need to flag down a cab and-'

I stopped short as I felt the impact on come from behind.

'OI!' I screamed. I could hear a man's heavy breathing behind me. I spun around and yelled 'What do you think you're doing?'

The time stood still as I got my first look at the man who had attacked me. He was tall, at least 6 ft, and had blonde flippy hair. He had a big leather jacket  
>and dark blue skinny jeans, giving the appearance that basically made him look like the jacket was swallowing him up. He looked like a kid. A scared little kid, shaking from the cold and the fear, that, to my dismay and surprise, was pointing a gun at my face. He looked at me with bloodshot eyes.<p>

'Give me the money.' He said through clenched teeth.

'What?'

'Your money. Give it to me.' His voice didn't have an accent. He was, like me, from America.

'I-I only have a couple pounds on me. The rest is all American money.'

'Give. Me. The money.' He hissed.

'Yeah, yeah. Of course.' I reached for my wallet.

'Hurry up, lady. I don't have all day!' He grunted as he looked behind himself.

'All right, all right! Just gimme a minute.' I shot back, my voice surprisingly steady for someone getting mugged. 'Jeez, you're mugging me, you might as well gimme adequate time to get-'

I was cut off as he charged towards me. He grabbed my shoulders and slammed me into the alley wall.

'Listen, you little brat,' he spat. 'I am in an amount of trouble you wouldn't believe. I've done things that would get me sent to jail for life, three times over. Now you listen, and you listen good. I-'

'Well.'

'What?'

'Well. You said 'Now you listen, and you listen good.' when you should have said 'Now you listen, and you listen _well_.'

'Oh you little bitch.' He slammed my head onto the brick wall.

After that, it was all fuzzy. I was taken into a corner and thrown to the ground. I think I was raped. I can't remember. I just can't.  
>The walls were spinning as I felt his hands rifle through my pockets. He grabbed my wallet and phone and, with one final knock to the head, ran off into the street.<p>

It took about an hour to come to and another half hour for me to realize that I could move; the pressure from his hands still echoed on my shoulders. Slowly, I pushed myself up off the ground and tried to walk down the alley. Instead of walking back into the mob, I went the other way, down the alley into a small sector of London. There where little shops scattered about, and an apartment building.

'Alright then,' I mumbled 'let's give the apartment people a go.'

I stumbled forward towards a door with 221B printed on it in pretty gold plating. I knocked on the door once, softly. I was about to knock again, when a man opened the door. He was shortish, only a couple inches taller than me, with a nice build and a tan sweater on.

'Can I help you...?' The man looked baffled.

'Please sir,' I said cursing myself for sounding weak. 'can you help me? I-I think I'm lost. I got mugged and he, I think, raped me and took my money and my phone and the slammed my head into a wall and I think I got a concussion because I'm all dizzy and cold and I got separated from my parents when we were going back to our hotel from the Olympics.'

I carried on like this, presumably in tears, until the man, staring at with a look of overwhelming concern, reached out to me.

'Hey, hang on now. It's alright. C'mon inside. I know someone who could help.' He helped me inside and peeled my coat off. It had been raining. I didn't notice.

'Sherlock!' The man called up the stairs. 'SHERLOCK! Get down here! Oh it's bloody useless' he said, defeated. He turned to me.

'Should we take a look at that head of yours then?'

I stepped back. 'Um, that's alrigh-'

'I'm a doctor, um sorry, what's your name?'

'Vera.'

'Right, yes, Vera. John Watson.' He said reaching out his hand. I shook it.

'I'm a qualified doctor, Vera. I can promise that I'm not going to crack your head open to look at your brain or anything.'

'O-okay.'

'Good. Now, where does it hurt?'

'My left knee, the mugger kicked it in, my head, and my um, well, lower half, yeah?'

'Well, let's just take care of the knee and your head, and leave the rest to...one of my female colleges?'

'Yes, that'd be lovely.'

'Right. Now, can you move your knee at all without it hurting?'

'Uh, no. I tried once, but I collapsed on top of it.'

'Right... Do you think you can walk up steps?'

'Course I can.' I said back. I was hurt, but not incapable of walking up stairs. I took a step forward, and nearly fell over.

'Damn mugger,' I mumbled. 'fucking kicked my knee out.'

'Do you want me to-'

'I fine, thank y-.'

I was cut short went I tried to put pressure on my knee again and toppled over.

'Um, on second though, could you carry me?' I asked, as I casually sat on the step I had landed on.

John Watson shook his head and laughed.

'What're you laughing at?' I shot up at him as he scooped me up and carried me up the steps.

'Nothing, it's just I used to do the same thing. Limp, I mean.'

'Why don't you limp anymore?'

He sighed, then laughed and wiggled his head a bit. 'It was all up here. I was shot in the shoulder. They took the bullet out, gave me pain meds, took me to therapy, everything. But I still walked with the limp. Don't know why, though.' He said, lost in thought.'But it stopped as soon as I moved here. My flatmate go it out of my head, so to speak.'

'Afghanistan or Iraq?'

I looked up to see him staring at me. We stopped walking.

'How did you know I was in the-'

'Just the way you stand. My father was in the military so I can recognize a military stance when I see one. You said you were shot in the leg. Now, you don't sound or act like a imbecile, so it couldn't have been a hunting accident or some other joy ride. No, it must have been in an intense situation. War. So tell me, was is Afghanistan or Iraq?'

He thought for a moment. Then he smiled.

'It was Afghanistan.'

'Why are you smiling?'

'Because my flatmate is going to bloody love you.'

**A/N; THANK YOU SO MUCH! :) Your reviews are like crack to me. The next part will be up next Saturday. This idea has kind of blossomed in my head, and suddenly I'm writing new ideas for it every second of the day. I might even have the story all planned out! ANYWAY... I'll try to update every Saturday and see how it goes from there.****  
><strong>


	2. Lost! alternate cut Part II

**Disclaimer; I do not own Sherlock, or any of its characters.**

**Appearances by Lestrade, Sherlock, and John.**

**Thank you to any who reviewed or added this to their watch list! :D**

We continued up the stairs, my head getting heavier with every step. I just wanted to fall into a deep, dreamless sleep. Sadly, John would not allow that.

'Nope, sorry, Vera. No sleep for you. Don't want you slipping into a coma.' He warned as he gently shook me out of my haze.

When we reached the top of the steps, John put me down and opened the door.

'Sherlock? Lestrade? Could I get some help here?' He called out.

'In here, John.' A low, smokey voice rang back.

He sighed and turned to me.

'C'mon, we have some...things to sort out.' He held out his hand. I took it, grateful to have something to hold on to.

We stepped inside the flat. To the left of us was the kitchen. Or, at least, I think it was the kitchen. It looked like a science lab. To the right of us was the living room. It was nice, two chairs, a couch, and a coffee table. Someone had painted a smiley face on the wall. I smiled. No sign of where the voice had come from, though. Still holding John's hand (he was texting with his other), I looked in to the kitchen/lab again. No one. I turned back to investigate the smiley face (it looked like someone had shot it several times). When I turned back around, though, I found myself staring into a man's piercing grey-blue eyes.

I screamed. I tore my hand out of John's and immediately staggered back and tripped over something. I looked down to see what I had tripped over. It was a human skull. I screamed again.

'SHERLOCK!' John screamed. 'Why the hell would you do that!'

The man replied in an extremely fast voice, his head jerking left and right ask he spoke.

'She was attacked. Raped, most likely, and mugged. Separated from her parents and worried sick about it. Mostly because she thinks she'll get in trouble and never get outside her house again. Around 15 and has been outside for about 2 hours. And I was only trying to talk to her, John.'

While I was taken aback by all this man knew about simply back looking at me for half a second, John just seemed pissed off at him.

'Since when do you care about people and their emotions?'

John made a move towards me when the other man, gently, grabbed his shoulder. His face, although already extremely pale, seemed to lose all of it's color.

'John, I did what I had to do. You know it was for the best.'

'I have no idea what you're talking about, Sherlock.' John grumbled back, taking a particular interest in the floor instead of making eye contact.

'John, you would have been killed! I wouldn'tve been able to handle that.'

'And you think you dying was any easier?'

'Well I didn't know it would affect you_ that_ much...'

Without warning, John exploded into a fit of rage.

'You didn't think? Did the _**great**_ Sherlock Holmes just say he didn't think?'

'John, I-'

'HOW ELSE DID YOU EXPECT ME TO REACT? You made me watch you jump off a bloody building!'

'You don't understand, John! They would've been after you. I did this to **protect** you. I didn't think you would...'

'Do what, Sherlock? The same bloody way you did?'

They were screaming at each other now, and oblivious to their surroundings. Including the even newer man walking towards me. I picked myself up, being careful not to put any weight on my injured knee, and dusted myself off.

Suddenly, I felt angry. Angry at that tall man who had scared the shit out of me. Angry at John for not checking if I was okay. It was whiny, yes, but I had just been assaulted and he was shouting at his flatmate for some prank he pulled. I was almost in tears when the new man knelt down next to me.

'Well, what've we got here? You okay?' The third man asked.

'Oh I'm just jolly. Happy as a bird with a french fry.' I answered, tears and angry sarcasm dripping from every word.

I looked up at him. He was nice looking, in a way. He had slightly tanned skin, grayish-white hair, and a suit to match. He smile at me, as if he was used to sarcastic comments. Anger melted into shyness.

'Well, c'mon, I've got some questions for you. Can you walk to the couch?'

'Yeah, I got it.'

I hobbled over to the couch, avoiding John and Sherlock's screaming match, which had evolved to something about their relationship, and sat down. The man sat infront of me.

'I'm Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade.' He said, getting his clip board out.

'Vera. Vera Davis.'

'Alright, Vera, what's wrong?'

'I was just seperated from my parents, mugged, abused, and possibly raped.'

Lestrade looked up.

'Well.. That's one hell of a night.'

'She's showing signs of a concussion.' John added from the kitchen as he raised a hand to silence the taller man. That **only **set him off more. He started yelling even louder and John ended up having to take him into the back room to finish there argument.

'Ah, well.' He smiled. 'New set of questions then, yeah?'

I nodded, suddenly feeling curious as to what they were arguing about.

I was pulled from my thoughts when Greg pulled out a new sheet of paper and asked 'And where do you live?'.

'Redwood Lake, Minnesota, in the United States of America.'

'Addr-'

'NO!' I shouted, closing my eyes and rubbing my temples. Everything went quiet. 'Redwood... Redwood Falls? Yes,_ FALLS_. Redwood Falls, Minnesota.'

Lestrade crossed out his notes and added a bunch more.

'Address?'

'1014 South 17th Street.'

'Are you sure?'

'Yes.'

'Really?'

_'Yes.'_

'Parent's names?'

'Rachel and Andrew? No, Anthony. Rachel and Anthony Davis.'

'Siblings?'

'Alex, Charlie, and Michael.'

'What hotel are you staying at?'

I opened my eyes.

'...um, I don't really know.' I said, rubbing the back of my neck.

'S'alright, love. Do you-'

'ASK HER THE DIGITS OF PI.' John yelled from the back room.

'Digits of pi?' Lestrade repeated.

'3.14159267. That's all the farther I can get.'

'President of the United States?'

'Barack Odama.'

'Try again?'

'Barack _Obama_.'

'Right, what's the date today?'

'Today is June 14, 2012'

'S'actually the 15th, but that's alright.' He smiled, finishing up the notes on his clipboard. 'Now, what's happened to you tonight?'

'Well.. I was walking back to my hotel with my parents after the games. I got distracted and-'

'By what?' A deep voice interrupted.

I looked up to see that the man who was fighting with John. The man they called Sherlock. He was a few feet away from me, now sipping tea John had made him. Odd. I hadn't even noticed them.

'I was looking at the stars.'

He scoffed. 'You don't look like much a star gazer.'

'I'm not.'

'Then why be bothered with them?'

'I was bored.' I smirked.

He smirked back.

'Sherlock, _please_. Just let me finish asking her questions.'. Lestrade interrupted. 'She's obviously concussed, confused and scared.'

'Oi! I'm not a five year old!' I shot at him, shyness evaporated into burning hot anger within seconds.

'Vera, calm down. Lestrade is going to help you.' John breathed, walking towards the living room.

'Fine.' I huffed. 'What else do you need to know?'

'Describe what happened to you tonight. In **full** detail, please.' Sherlock asked before Lestrade could utter a word.

In excruciating detail that I have already told and don't wish to repeat, I told them about the man who had robbed, and probably raped me, and how I got here. When I was finished, Sherlock smiled.

'Americans, always being so aggressive.'

I smirked again.

I told Lestrade about my parents, how I couldn't remember my hotel, and gave him all the phone numbers I had.

'Alright, don't worry, Vera. We'll get you back to your parents by tomorrow for sure.' He nodded towards me and gave me a small, rather sympathetic, smile.

'Thank you, sir.' I nodded back.

He took John and Sherlock into the kitchen, as if that would block me from seeing and hearing them. I watched then from the couch.

'Sherlock, Watson,' he whispered.' you do realize she has no where to stay, right?'

'Of course she does.' Sherlock answered.

'Where?' Lestrade asked.

'We have a couch, don't we?'

'But Sherlock-'

'I do believe that John and I are fully capable of taking care of one teenager for a night.'

'John?' Lestrade sighed.

'Fine by me.' I could practically see his hands fly up in a way that said 'I do not care about your dispute with Sherlock, I just want to make sure this girl is fine.'

'Fine. I'll go find her parents. John, take care of her leg and head and find someone who can sort out the rape business. Sherlock...let her sleep. Please.' Lestrade instructed. Sherlock wasn't listening.

'Yes, Lestrade. Now, if you want to keep your wife, I suggest you get home before she has another affair with the gym teacher.'

Lestrade turned on his heel and stormed out.

'Why?' John asked quietly.

'Joking. It was a joke, John.' Sherlock dragged on. 'Besides, this time it's with the Librarian.'

I giggled. Both of them looked over at me. Sherlock smiled. John sighed.

'Well, it looks like we get to be parents for a day.' Sherlock said, still smiling brightly. 'Wonderful things, teenagers are. Bursting with energy, always bored. Do you get bored, Vera?'

'All the time.'

'Wonderful. Glad to see you two are bonding.' John interjected. 'But I need to check your head out.'

'Oh yeah..' I mumbled

'Sherlock, I need you to run to the store quick and get a cheap knee brace. Probably only about £6.'

'But-'

'Now, Sherlock.'

'Fine..' Sherlock grumbled as John sat infront of me.

'How many fingers?' He said, holding up his hand.

'Three.'

'Good. Now follow my finger but don't move your head.'

'Okay.'

'Good! Now, are you nauseous or dizzy at all?'

'Both, and very much so.'

'Right. Well it seems like just a mild concussion,' he said, feeling the top of my skull with his fingers. 'Does it hurt when I push down?'

'Just in the back, a little. Right-' I winced. 'there.'

'Well, I don't think too much damage has been done. Just get lots of rest and stay off of that leg.' He smiled.

'Thank you, sir.' I said, smiling back.

'Right, well, I think you can use Sherlock's room for the night, he rarely sleeps in there anyway.'

The door slammed. John sighed.

'Well, it's true!' He yelled after Sherlock.

'Oh, I'm fine on the couch, really.'

'Oh no, no. You're sleeping in a proper bed, young lady.'. He said as he scooped me up from the couch. I winced as my knee popped.

'And as for your knee, I think it's just bruised. ' He said as he carried me into a small bedroom. 'Just stay off it, wear a brace, and you should be fine.' He smiled down at me. I tried to smile back, but sleep was overtaking me.

'Could I...have, have some tea?' I asked when John set me down on Sherlock's bed.' I've never had traditional British tea.'

'Aaaalright. I'll make you some.' He said smiling, pulling the duvet up around me. 'I'll be right back.'

'You remind me of my dad, Mr. Watson.' I blurted out before he could leave.

'Do I? That's odd.' He said, leaning in the doorway.

'It's just the way you take care of people. I mean, you barely know me and you're tucking me in in your boyfriend's bed. You must have kids then, yeah?'

'No, no kids for me-Hey, hang on! We are not a couple!'

'Oh yes you are.' I said, waving it off. 'So tell me, Mr. Watson-'

'John's fine, thanks.'

'John, why are you so...parent-like towards people?'

'Just the way I was raised, I guess. Plus I have to take of Sherlock now, after-'

'JOHN!' Sherlock roared, slamming the door.

'Speak of the Devil.' He said, his warm and comforting smile now gone and replaced by a worn and tired look.

'I'll be right back,' John said, ducking out into the hallway.

I was asleep within seconds.


	3. Lost! alternate cut Part III

**A really short one this time. Don't worry, they get longer. And more confusing.  
><strong>

That night, I had a nightmare.

In my dream, I was falling. Falling, falling, falling, until I landed back in the alley. The American man was spewing terrible things at me, calling me nasty names and throwing things at me. He punched me and threw me on the ground.

'Oh, you little /bitch/.' He swore at me.

'No! Stop! Stop it! JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!' I screamed. He put a hand over my mouth. I kicked at him and tried to throw him off of me. He punched me again.

I bit his hand.

'Vera!' He screamed, clutching his bleeding palm. I tried to run away, but my feet wouldn't move. The man caught up to me and grabbed me by the shoulders. He started to shake me.

'Leave me alone!' I screamed, screwing my eyes shut.

'Vera!' He screamed again. 'VERA!'

'No! No, no, no! Stay away from me!' I said, crying, and pushing him away.

'Vera! OPEN YOUR EYES!'

'No! No, just LEAVE ME ALONE!' I screamed, opening my eyes to glare at the American boy.

I was greeted by a very worried looking John. I immediately clung onto him and sobbed for all I was worth.

'It's alright, Vera.' He cooed, slowly rocking me back and forth.' You're awake now. They can't get you when you're awake.'

'No, no, no,' I choked, my throat filled with tears. 'he got me, John. H-he wouldn't let go. He'll never let go. Never ever ever.' I sobbed harder into his sweater. I felt his hand move. For a second, I thought he was going to smother me. Instead, he clamped it down on the ear that wasn't almost embedded into his sweater.

'SHERLOCK!' I heard a muffled yell. 'MAKE TEA!'

He lifted his hand.

'What kind of tea do you like, Vera?' John asked awkwardly. My head was resting on his thigh now, facing his hip.

'There's this stuff my dad makes... This acai mango tea. I really like that.'

He put his hand back on my ear.

'ACAI MANGO TEA! MRS. HUDSON HAS SOME!'

'MRS. HUDSON!' I heard Sherlock yell down the steps.

'OH FOR FUCK'S SAKE, SHERLOCK! IT'S 4 IN THE MORNING! JUST GO DOWN THERE!'

Even through John's hand, I could hear Sherlock's dramatic sigh and heavy footsteps as he trudged downstairs. John made a move to get up, but I clutched on to him as if my life depended on it.

'C'mon, Vera. We're gonna go sit on the couch, watch some telly. D'you like telly?'

'Y-yeah. I like Doctor Who. And the news.' I said, sounding remarkably like a five year old.

John Watson smiled as he scooped me up again. My knee didn't hurt this time. I looked down to find it had a brace on it. I didn't mind. He carried me down the steps and into the living room. He gently set me on the couch and turned on the TV.

'Here we are... The news. Sorry, no Doctor Who right now.'

'Thank you, sir-'

'John. Not 'sir', not 'Mr. Watson'. Just John will do.'

'Thank you, John.'

He smiled. Have I mentioned he smiled a lot?

'Well, it's only,' he checked his watch,'4 am. Don't have to be to work for awhile. Mind if I watch it with you?'

'No problems.' I whispered.

* * *

><p><strong>AN Expect an update this Saturday! :)**


	4. Lost! alternate cut Part IV

**In which I return from my hiatus with a new pen name, Vera is awkward and acquainted with even more people, Molly likes Green Day, and John speaks Spanish.**

**USE **_**ALL**_** THE WEIRD HEADCANONS!**

* * *

><p>Sherlock returned with the tea and left immediately to go bother DI Lestrade about something. John made tea, and we watched TV for about an hour. It was nice, bonding with him. He was warm and sweet, and he would explain parts of the news I didn't understand, which admittedly, was a lot of the time. When the news were over, he told me he had to make a call to Molly something-or-another. I nodded and focused on trying to recall memories of my life in the U.S., something that I found getting increasingly difficult.<p>

After half an hour of trying to remember who my 2nd grade teacher was, I gave up and decided to take a look around the flat. After all, I was staying here with two strange men I knew nothing about. It couldn't hurt to just take a peak. I hopped up from the couch and limped into the kitchen. It seemed nice, despite the science experiment sitting on the kitchen table (it involved vinegar and a green sludge I'm pretty sure was poisonous) and the tea bags laying about. I smiled, reminded of my own kitchen at home, all cluttered and having nothing but carryout boxes and toast in it.

At the mention of food, my stomach rumbled.

_Oh, carryout. _I thought dreamily. _I miss carryout._ _Hmm..._ I slyly opened up the refrigerator door._ Surely John wouldn't mind if I just snagged a bit of Chines-_

'**JOHN. JOHN WHY IS THERE A HUMAN HEAD IN THE FRIDGE JOHN **_**OH MY GOD**_** JOHN**' I yelled across the flat, turning to run to John, only to trip over that infernal skull again and fall on my face. 'And I fell!' I added weakly.

'Oh, Jesus, Molly, I have to go. Vera isn't adjusting too well to Sherlock's...habits.' I heard John hurriedly ending his phone call as he approached me. 'Yep, see you in five. Bye.'

John, who stood before me, snapped his phone shut and looked down at me, barely holding in a giggle.

'Good morning, Vera. Having fun without me?' He managed.

'Good morning, Doctor Watson.' I said casually, still lying face down on the floor. 'Are you aware that there's a human head in your refrigerator?'

'Why, no.' John said with mock surprise. 'The toes he brought home a week ago must have blocked that from my vision.'

'Ah, yes,' I said, raising my head and nodding in agreement. 'That'll do it.'

He bent down to help me up, giggling all the while.

'Did he seriously put toes in the fridge?' I asked, stifling my own laughter as he picked me up.

John chuckled and nodded. 'And eyes in the microwave!'

Another wave of laughter.

John had just set me down on the couch when we heard knocking and the door opening downstairs.

"That must be Molly, then." John exhaled, calming himself down." Oh, you'll love her. Well, let's just adjust your-" He mumbled as he moved to take off my knee brace.

"Oi, I'm alright! I can do it myself, thank you very much."

John Watson shook his head as he stood up. "Of course you can."

"Do I detect doubt, Doctor Watson?"

"Um, hello there." came a quiet voice from the corner.

I looked over to see a small, mousy-looking girl standing just outside the doorway. She was wearing a pair of old skinny jeans and a plaid shirt that looked much to big for her. She nervously waved at us while adjusting the over-sized bag that hug from her shoulder.

"Molly! Fantastic timing, as always." John welcomed her, teasing evident in his voice.

"I, er, I'm s-sorry, you said come quickly and I-" she stumbled over her words until John interrupted her.

"Molly, I was kidding, you're fine. Thank you for coming." John smiled at her before moving on. "Anyway, this is Vera," He gestured to me. "She's staying with us for awhile."

"Hi!" Molly sat in the chair next to me and pulled out her bag. "John told me what happened, and he mentioned that you didn't have anything with you when you arrived so I thought I would make this a bit easier for you and bring you some clothes!" She smiled awkwardly, handing the bag over to me.

I took it, mouth hanging open. "Oh my- I- Er, thank you. Really. Thank you so much." I managed, looking through the bag. Capri's, a few pairs of shorts, a floral dress (my God, it was beautiful), a couple shirts with the union jack on them, and...a Green Day shirt?

"I used to be a really big fan," she supplied, seeing the surprise on my face.

"Really?" I asked incredulously, "Not to be rude, but you don't seem the type, at all."

Molly chuckled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I was a bit more...outgoing in my uni days than I am now. But that doesn't matter. Go! Try on the clothes."

I smiled. "Thank you, Molly."

Fifteen minutes later, I emerged from Sherlock's room wearing black capris and the pink Green Day shirt. Molly and John were talking quietly in the kitchen.

"Sherlock said it could be _him_." John whispered.

"But...but he's- He shot himself! How could he be doing any of this?" Molly responded, her voice a bit louder than John would have liked.

"Shh!" John shushed. "And Sherlock jumped off a roof, yet he's alive."

"Sherlock planned it out."

"Maybe he did too."

They sat in silence for awhile before Molly responded.

"We can't start thinking like this, John. It's been a year. Sherlock is back and we need to move on. J-Jim is not back," Molly stated, a dangerous tone in her voice, "and he won't be coming back anytime soon.

John nodded. "I want to believe that, Molls. I really do. But I can't, not when I know it's possible that he could potentially be alive."

"Fine." Molly gave up. "I'm going to go check on Ver-"

"No need." John interrupted. "She's been listening to our conversation for the past five minutes."

Shit.

_Alright, Vera, just act cool._ I thought to myself.

I popped out of my hiding place. "Oh heeellooo!" I called to both of them. _Damn it!_ I cursed myself. _Be cool, not Mrs. Doubtfire!_ I shook it off and started walking towards the living room. "Just going to the living room. To watch TV. Because I like TV. D'you like TV? Of course you don't. You like telly. Though, they're technically the same thing. But still. You probably don't like it anyway. you've got more important things to do." I rambled on and on until I reached the living room, where I flew onto the couch.

John and Molly just stared.

* * *

><p>Not long after that, Molly bid us fare well and left.<p>

"Vera!" John called from the kitchen.

"Eh?" I replied, still dozing on the couch.

"As your doctor, I am prescribing some physical therapy."

"Hm." I answered, not wanting to get up.

"C'mon, Vera. We're taking a trip to Tesco's."

I gave up on trying to go back to sleep. "Tha's the grocery store, righ'?" I asked, my voice thick with sleep.

John chuckled as he entered the living room. "You catch on quickly. Now come on."

I groaned and rolled off the couch. "Do we have to go _now_?"

John chuckled again. "Yes, Vera. Now."

With mock-reluctance, I followed him out the door.

We walked and chatted the entire way there. John spoke mostly of Sherlock and their adventures, the two things that took up most of his time, while I talked about my friends and Doctor Who. We moved on to the topic of Afghanistan (though, that wasn't a particularly extensive conversation...), school, and by the time we reached Tesco's, we had stumbled upon the topic of foreign languages.

''Habla espanol?'' He asked, ''Ou parlez-vous français?''

''iSi! Hablo Espanol!''

John smiled. ''Como te llamas?''

''Me llamo Vera. Y tu?''

''Me llamo John. De donde eres?''

''Yo soy de Estados Unidos. Y tu?''

''Yo soy de Inglaterra."

We were nearly back at the flat after purchasing several jars of jam, tea leaves, and numerous boxes of tortellini (I had insisted on at least _trying_ to make dinner for them) when I noticed something a bit strange. A small red dot had caught my eye.

"John, what's that?" I asked.

"What's what?" he replied, unlocking the door.

"Er, nothing, never mind." I said after the dot had disappeared. "Just my concussed brain playing tricks on me, I guess." I smiled, reassuringly.

Though he didn't seem completely convinced, John nodded at we made our way back into 221B.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Sorry for the wait, guys! My phone (the place where I write _all_of this fic) has decided to be an asshole and die on me. So I'll be rewriting all of it. I've got the next part started, and it should be up within the week. So see you guys then! :)  
><strong>


	5. a brief announcement

oh

hey guys

how ya doin'? it's been...awhile.

sorry about that.

I'll admit it, I abandoned this story

I hated how I was writing and I was getting way too freaked out about it so I just forgot about it

BUT

I am now going to resume writing! I plan on working on it this weekend, so updating around next week sometime

so yeah

nice to be back and all

heh


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